


me + yooh

by sowish



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, bora is an abb, but this is definitely an excuse for me to explore all the yoohyeon ships, gahyeon is a mathlete, i am inserting my abg jiudong agenda AND sb yoohyeon agenda in one piece, jibo and singbin side ships, minji and handong are abgs, refer to my notes for definitions if you're not familiar with those terms, siyeon yoohyeon and yubin are motorcycle-riding punks, t for some cursing and alcohol and weed usage, this is 2hyeon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sowish/pseuds/sowish
Summary: a mathlete and a punk. match made in heaven.
Relationships: Kim Yoohyeon & Lee Gahyeon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 146





	me + yooh

**Author's Note:**

> definitions are from urban dictionary but i've modified them to fit this piece and to be less sexist
> 
> abg: acronym for asian baby girl. asian girl who likes to hang out with abb's and parties all night long. puts a lot of makeup on. dyes their hair often. fake eyelashes and acrylics are also relatively common. stereotypically hot and wear revealing clothing. hennessy and boba are their life essence. like to make out with their abb's.
> 
> abb: acronym for asian baby boy. they're cute. they wear supreme, off-white, gucci, or whatever expensive stret brand. they look like they'll break your heart for some illenium tickets. their skin is soft as a baby's butt, and they're definitely using daddy's money.
> 
> abb is being used a gender neutral term here. 
> 
> ~
> 
> this piece would not be possible without kylie's help. 
> 
> enjoy!

Gahyeon likes math. There is no ambiguity, no grey area. There is one right answer and proven ways to get there.

She likes the consistency and control, the reliability. Two plus two equals four and it meant that one hundred years ago and it’ll mean that in the next century.

What Gahyeon doesn’t like, however, are parties. They’re loud and chaotic and it’s hard for her to think and breathe when all the noise and commotion gets to her head. 

But Gahyeon likes Minji so she reluctantly agreed to go to the party she, Bora, and Handong heard about. (She had said no to her invitations the last few times and as much as Minji tried to hide her deflating spirit, Gahyeon noticed how the brightness in her eyes dimmed just the slightest bit. And, well, Gahyeon hates snuffing that light out so it was only inevitable for her to agree at some point).

It’s cute how Minji tries her best to stick around Gahyeon and ease her into the party despite all her friends gravitating towards her lively aura. 

(That is until, she was whisked away by her girlfriend for a completely-serious and competitive beer pong match. Minji can never really say no to Bora. And plus, Minji loves beer pong—mostly because she has an unbelievable talent at it. It’s also fun for her to watch the hope and arrogant confidence slip away from the guys who challenge her and jeer at her). 

Minji even welcomed her to the party with a ready-made cup of Hennessy and Coke—Minji’s personal favorite drink if she’s looking for a good night. She had stayed long enough to rope Gahyeon into a few rounds of shots, Minji, Bora, and Handong’s friends surrounding her comfortingly, as Handong went around refilling their shot glasses for another go. 

It’s a bit odd to her that Siyeon and Yubin are part of the group when Siyeon takes her shot—Yubin content with her Sprite. They are completely unlike Minji, Bora, and Handong. Where Minji and Handong like to wear their false lashes and hoop earrings and fit themselves into alluring skin-tight dresses and thigh-high heels and Bora her Guess striped shirt and ripped jeans and her Nike Air Force 1’s, Siyeon and Yubin like their black leather jackets and black jeans, piercings decorated on her nose, lips, and eyebrows.

It’s an interesting conglomeration, campus punks drinking with campus ABG’s and ABB’s. Throw in a mathlete and it’s like the Sparknotes version of high school cliques all over again. But Minji is capable of making friends anywhere—she has the kindness, the excitement, and open-mindedness to have Siyeon’s arm slung over her shoulder, Bora’s around her waist, Gahyeon’s smile shining on her like she is the sun when the warmth in her belly welcomes her to be less scared. 

College parties are vastly different, not that Gahyeon would know. (If not for her distaste in parties, she likes to bury herself in her studies. Being the school’s best and most decorated mathlete is no easy feat that comes without practice). But it seems like this party is open to anyone and everyone, faces of many different people mingling around with the likes of those outside of their usual circles.

Before Minji leaves for the beer pong tournament—or at least, that’s what Gahyeon thinks Bora said—she tugs Gahyeon close to talk to her, “Gahyeon! If you’re feeling uncomfortable or lonely, my friend, Yoohyeon, is by the window close to the kitchen! She’s Siyeon and Yubin’s friend and she’s great company!”

When Minji points towards the window, she continues, “She’s about my height and has silver hair! You can’t miss her!”

There at the end of Minji’s finger, is Yoohyeon. Leaning against the wall with a red cup in her hand, her observant eyes flicker here and there. Minji lowers her head to talk by Gahyeon’s ear again, the music making it hard to be heard, “She’s not big on crowds so if you’re looking for an escape, she’s your girl! Just tell her you’re my friend and she’ll open up to you. A little bit. She’s kinda tough to crack but she’s nice; don’t worry!”

And maybe, if Gahyeon didn’t just drink three shots of Hennessy (and chased with White Claw—yeah, that’s the kind of night she’s having) on top of the drink Minji made for her upon her arrival, she would have immediately taken Minji’s offer. But alcohol is a curious enabler, her usual disapproval for parties and people gone with the wind. So, when Siyeon looks for a drinking partner for another shot, Gahyeon has no qualms offering her shot glass and quickly gulping it down, chasing with her grapefruit seltzer.

Some shots and many bathroom runs later with Handong, Bora, or Minji tagging along with her (because the buddy system is a magnificent thing), the room starts moving in slow-motion and the lights and music all kind of blur together in a hazy kaleidoscope of color. Needing some air, Gahyeon stumbles towards what she thinks is the window that would be her safe-space, a Yoohyeon shaped body no longer leaning against the wall. It’s peaceful for a while—Gahyeon even gets the time to zone off with her phone, until a hand comes to rest beside her head. Looking up, a man leans towards her, the red flush in his cheeks and the swaying of his body telling enough of his inebriation.

Slurring his words when he stumbles closer, Gahyeon has to push him away. “Hey beautiful, what’re you doin’ here alone?”

Smiling politely, Gahyeon moves further away from him, her foggy mind slowly warning her of the red alarms flashing in her mind. While she slowly stumbles on her words, the man just edges even closer, “Just- uh, getting some air.”

The man smirks cockily, looks constipated when he winks at her, “I can take care of you. Someone as sexy as you shouldn’t be by herself.”

The nagging fear in Gahyeon’s body begs her to come to come to sobriety. The alcohol laced in her blood ignores its pleads. Having trouble thinking of a rebuttal, anything to get him far away from her, Gahyeon feels herself freeze. 

Parties can really fucking suck.

Gahyeon is slow to notice the hand advancing towards her, his grubby paw trying to reach for her waist, when a hand forcefully turns him away. Behind him, Yoohyeon stands confidently, calm and collected eyes briefly glancing back at Gahyeon before turning defiant and challenging when she looks back at the man. Now that she’s closer, Gahyeon notices the septum and eyebrow piercings that glint a reflection of the light bouncing around the room.

(She looks good in them. Or she makes them look good on her. Gahyeon isn’t too sure which it is that she means).

“Minji’s telling everyone she annihilated you at beer pong last time. She said you airballed more than she had to drink throughout the whole night. That’s embarrassing since she drinks like a fucking tank.”

It seems like her words are enough to distract him as he angrily stomps his way towards the beer pong table where Minji will definitely beat him in a game since she still hasn’t lost a single match and she has, for sure, drank enough to take out a cow by now.

Taking her place by the window, Yoohyeon leans against the wall with a quiet air of coolness.

“Thank you. For doing that.”

Yoohyeon just shoots a small and polite smile, her eyes looking at everything but Gahyeon, before she pulls out her phone.

“I gotta go. Siyeon’s being a handful. But, if you need me, call me and I’ll be there.”

Before Yoohyeon leaves, she doesn’t do so without handing her an object. Looking at it, on the cardboard scrap of a pizza box, the scrawling of ten digits stare back at her. Deciding to input it on her phone just in case, Yoohyeon’s number sits number one on her Favorites list.

Thankfully, while Yoohyeon is away, no one else comes to bother Gahyeon. It’s a bit of a spectacle, watching Yubin and Yoohyeon chase Siyeon around, tugging her down from tables and stopping her from taking off her shirt, trying to stop frustrated beer pong players from advancing a victorious Minji and Bora, taking away the Hennessy bottle in Handong’s hand when she calls for more shots. 

Maybe it’s better that Gahyeon stops drinking, the mess that is this high school cliche reminding her why parties weren’t her taste. 

She doesn’t like losing control.

And parties, for most, meant losing control.

By the end of the night, Gahyeon has sobered up enough to think clearly, Bora and Handong sloppily leaning against her while Yoohyeon tugs along a hyper Minji.

(Siyeon and Yubin have long gone by now, Yubin pushing away Siyeon’s wandering hands and avoiding her pursed lips and whines for affection when they announced their departure. Siyeon, Gahyeon realized, isn’t as scary as she looks. If anything, she’s like a cute, cuddly teddy bear dressed up in a leather jacket and piercings).

(Minji has taken off her false lashes by now, safely pocketed in Yoohyeon’s leather jacket, her thigh-high heels traded for Yoohyeon’s combat boots. If it were up to Minji, she could go a few more hours, but, her feet are fucking killing her and she’s getting sick of seeing her lashes at the top of her vision).

Even if the walk back to Minji, Bora, and Handong’s dorm is relatively short, it isn’t easy lugging along Bora and Handong, their weight heavy on Gahyeon. And poor Yoohyeon, she has to chase after Minji in her thigh-highs and it’s an infinitely silly sight to watch Yoohyeon run after her in her white heels and leather jacket while Minji shoots off in her dress and Yoohyeon’s combat boots.

(Yoohyeon is unexpectedly and almost frighteningly quick, her pace effortlessly matching Minji’s and wrangling her back to Gahyeon).

After the commotion, Minji abruptly stops, pouts, and whines, “I’m tired!”

Yoohyeon only sighs exasperatedly, “If I’m carrying you, give me back my shoes.”

Minji beams and cheers happily before sitting down and tugging Yoohyeon’s boots off, Yoohyeon shrugging off her jacket to prevent Minji from flashing anyone when her dress rides up.

Laughing amusedly while Bora and Handong doze off on her, Gahyeon adjusts her hold on their waists, “Is she always like this?”

Sock-clad with Minji’s heels left beside her, Yoohyeon shakes her head, “Not always.”

(As soon as Minji stands up, Yoohyeon lifts Minji’s arms so that they stand pointed to the sky. Wrapping her jacket around her waist and tying it, it’s as if the two are familiar with this routine when Minji tightens the knot as Yoohyeon turns around to squat at a lower height for her).

Gahyeon can’t help but to laugh again when Yoohyeon loudly grunts as Minji, literally, hops onto her back. As Yoohyeon smoothly lowers down to pick up her heels, Minji’s bare feet dangle sloppily while she sleepily rests her head on Yoohyeon’s shoulder, draped over her like a lazy and cuddly koala.

“Hold your heels, Minji. I can’t carry them for you.”

Minji whines back indignantly, “Yoohyeonnieeee, please!”

(Yoohyeon just sighs, clutches them tightly in her hands when they begin to walk again. Before they can get too far, Yoohyeon asks Gahyeon to check if Minji is decently covered from the back—she is).

Yoohyeon chokes a little along the way.

“Minji, I am not going to drop you. Stop choking me!”

When Minji speaks, Gahyeon can hear the pout tugging on her lips, “But, I’m scared, Yooh!”

“I literally can’t breathe, Minji. Loosen up a little!”

(Minji’s arms rest limp and loose around Yoohyeon’s neck).

For the most part, Bora, Handong, and Gahyeon fill up the silence with mindless talks about what they are currently craving. (Greasy as all hell kimchijeon and sweet sikhye). Gahyeon notices that Yoohyeon just silently walks beside them, keeping to herself. Even when Gahyeon extends the conversation to her, she’s brief and short with her responses.

Somehow, despite spending the last hour or so with Yoohyeon, the only things Gahyeon knows about her are her name and number. Then, there’s her kindness and quiet chivalry, but Gahyeon is still left intrigued, wanting to know more about this mysterious woman.

As soon as Bora is able to stand up on her own, she wordlessly ambles over to relieve Yoohyeon of Minji’s heels with one hand and the other softly running through her girlfriend’s hair.

(Minji and Bora are one hell of a pair. They study together, eat together, party together, live together. If it weren’t for their affinity for raves and drinking and letting loose in such a remarkable manner, Gahyeon would confuse them for a married couple who has their life together.

But, as such, the messy life of youth and being an ABG and ABB are compelling to the pair.

It’s funny to Gahyeon how Minji and Bora used to be playgirls when they were single in the past, stringing along everyone and anyone who entertained them enough, until they found comfort and love in each other—endless laughter and adventure in each other.

Gahyeon thinks she has never seen Minji or Bora so happy before finding each other, thinks that they deserve it—to be in love, to wear happiness like a favorite sweater).

It’s a miracle that they’re able to drop the three off at their dorm without much more hassle, Minji peacefully asleep on Yoohyeon’s back, Bora and Handong slowly getting more of their coordination and sense back.

When Bora adamantly insists that Gahyeon take the extra bed in their dorm room (since she likes to sleep in Minji’s bed anyway) because it’s too dangerous to be walking alone at night, Yoohyeon leaves with the reassurance that everyone is safely taken care of. And when Bora tries to persuade Yoohyeon too, the girl just gratefully turns down her offer and disappears into the night.

Before Gahyeon slips off into sleep, the last things she thinks about are how pretty Yoohyeon looked with her wavy hair, how her small smile made Gahyeon feel a little safer.

(Her dream blurs those thoughts and throws them into a murky, sleep-induced haze).

-

Gahyeon likes sitting smack dab in the middle of her lecture hall. It’s the perfect place to blend in and get lost—to just be another pair of eyes looking back at the professor. The front is much too close, and the back is constantly monitored for folks who doze off and play around—not that Gahyeon would fault them. History of Early Mathematics is a snooze fest on its worst days and if Gahyeon didn’t have to take it, she wouldn’t.

But, alas, being a math major destined this life for her. 

Normally, she can power through the lecture without much problem but Gahyeon isn’t normally hungover. When she sleepily jolts in her seat, she hopes that the jerking of her body wasn’t too noticeable. Casting a small look around, it seems like no one noticed—or no one cared enough to notice.

However, Gahyeon does notice a familiarly unfamiliar face.

The last time she checked, Yoohyeon wasn’t in this class. But, there, in the last seat of the last row of the hall, a head of silver-hair paying attentive focus to the professor diligently writes the notes on the board. 

If this lecture wasn’t already such a drag, the urge to catch Yoohyeon’s attention hangs a heavy weight on the minute hand of the clock at the front of the hall.

(Still, Gahyeon doesn’t find herself nodding off anymore, her mind no longer dwelling on sleep when it’s too busy thinking about the girl in the corner of the room).

When class ends, Gahyeon barely catches Yoohyeon as she is leaving, her hands adjusting her Airpods. In a last-ditch effort to get her attention, Gahyeon stands on the tips of her toes in hopes that Yoohyeon will notice her in the wave of students spilling out of the lecture hall, “Yoohyeon!”

Like her voice is a magnet to Yoohyeon’s ears, she swivels her head towards Gahyeon’s direction, her eyes searching for her in the crowd. Eyes widening in recognition, Yoohyeon shuffles off to the side to wait for Gahyeon to catch up to her. 

“I didn’t know you were in this class!”

Yoohyeon simply shrugs, adjusts the straps of her backpack as they walk through the halls of the university. “I’m not. But Yubin asked if I could take notes for her.”

As the hallway narrows to adhere to a two-way stream, Yoohyeon falters a step to walk slightly behind Gahyeon, letting her lead the way. Gahyeon briefly glances back at her when she speaks, “That’s really sweet of you! It’s nice to have someone who’ll do that for you.” 

It’s a flash of shock but Gahyeon catches it anyway, like Yoohyeon has never associated those words with herself. But just as slight as a wink, Yoohyeon is back to her usual nonchalant stare, quickly parting ways without much notice—a mere nod when she turns a corner. 

There’s something about Yoohyeon—something that quietly whispers away into the wind, something that Gahyeon quite can’t reach, something she doesn’t want to miss. 

Because at first glance, Yoohyeon isn’t the most welcoming: cold gaze, quiet, detached. All the black and piercings and tough-girl look wards off any attention. It’s not that she looks intimidating, not like how Siyeon does. But, in her outward aloof appearance, it seems that Yoohyeon is separate from reality, like she floats on by without much to say, without much to give to the world. 

Yet, in one night, Gahyeon has already seen that Yoohyeon has so much to offer, so much that she is willing to give. It’s no easy feat, taking care of a drunk Minji. (It’s not that Gahyeon has had to take care of Minji before because even when blasted beyond mind, some part of Minji is adamant about not being a burden to her. But, Minji has drunkenly shown up at her door sometime past midnight—Bora and Handong in tow—to check in on her. Gahyeon has had to walk her back to her dorm because she stumbled so much that she worried that Minji would fall and become close friends with the concrete). 

As challenging as it may be watching over a drunk Minji, it’s nearly monstrous considering the spectacular influence she has on a Drunk Bora. (Drunk Minji is more than capable of provoking a Drunk Bora—and a Drunk Minji and Drunk Bora wreaking havoc together makes nightmares look like dreams). Yet, as Minji drunkenly swayed and shouted and played around last night, Yoohyeon seemed to have settled into her role seamlessly without any hesitance, without a single ounce of genuine exasperation or annoyance.

No, there is something so blaringly loud about Yoohyeon’s quiet kindness and steady reliability.

It’s impossible for Gahyeon to ignore.

And Gahyeon loves figuring the most confounding of things out, loves understanding the layers and finding the beauty in complexity.

It’s why she loves math.

There is always something to work out, problems with steps that seem arduous to get through, but there is satisfaction in finally understanding its layers.

And Yoohyeon isn’t math, Gahyeon knows that. She’s much greater than numbers and equations.

But she’s perplexing, mesmerizingly.

And Gahyeon wants to understand her.

-

Gahyeon admits it's an ambitious goal to understand someone who is illusive and nearly impossible to find throughout all of campus. (And it’s not like she can spontaneously text Yoohyeon. What would she even say? Certainly not that she is seeking her out just to talk with her). Even where Siyeon and Yubin linger, Yoohyeon is nowhere to be found. And when asked, the two just shrug and offer a list of possible places she could be.

_“I don’t know. Maybe the library? Some tree somewhere? She’s not particular. She likes the quiet.”_

_“You might find her around the CLA buildings. All her classes are there.”_

So, Gahyeon checks the library in between her classes even if it’s a long shot because it’s an even longer shot to peruse her large campus for lofty and shady trees away from the commotion of students and events.

(Still, Gahyeon finds herself spending her gap hour walking along the cobbled ground of the south side of her campus—far along from where she needs to be for her next class when she reaches the College of Liberal Arts section of her university.

She couldn’t help but to be hopeful to find Yoohyeon here. From Siyeon’s information, Yoohyeon majors in Sociology and frequents this part of campus because all of her classes are located here).

It’s like trying to find the smallest needle in a haystack and Yoohyeon isn’t as easily detectable with a magnet like a needle is.

But Gahyeon remembers this.

Yoohyeon likes the quiet and everyone knows that the quietest place on campus is the Japanese Gardens located on the west side.

Gahyeon thinks she might have used all her year’s worth of luck when she enters the garden because, there, lo and behold, is Yoohyeon peacefully sitting on a bench by the koi pond. Resting in her hands as her eyes sweep along its pages, a book is the only thing occupying Yoohyeon’s attention.

_The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck_ , Gahyeon notices as she approaches her.

It doesn’t take much for Yoohyeon’s attention to float to her. It’s quiet and Gahyeon’s steps are foreign sounds to that of the trickling of the small waterfall and chirping of birds. Yoohyeon’s pierced eyebrow slightly arches at Gahyeon’s presence—a silent question.

“Learning how to not give a fuck?”

It’s the first time Yoohyeon smiles out of subconscious reflex, like she is genuinely humored. And her smile doesn’t disappear just as quick as it came. It stays long enough for Gahyeon to smile back at her. 

(Gahyeon thinks she might’ve heard the punctured exhale of a laugh, wonders when she’ll pull a proper and loud one from her). 

It’s incredibly comforting. Unexpectedly.

Yoohyeon shifts to the side even if there is already plenty of room beside her, closes her book after putting her bookmark between its pages, “Trying to.”

(Her bookmark is shaped like a dog, its ears sticking out from the top of the book).

Sitting beside her, Yoohyeon awkwardly twirls the ring around her pointer finger, her eyes trained to her hand.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Yoohyeon shoots her a look before rapidly shaking her head no and fitting a small smile on her lips.

“What uh- what brings you here?”

Yoohyeon looks so out of her element, like a child trying on their mother’s heels for the first time and attempting to strut.

It’s cute.

Now, Gahyeon _could_ tell Yoohyeon that she has spent the last week trying to find her but concludes that that might sound, only slightly, obsessive.

“I was looking for some quiet. This is the quietest place I know outside of the library. I’ve spent so many hours in there cramming for my competition that I got sick of it.”

And, yeah, Gahyeon was looking for quiet to find Yoohyeon but, Gahyeon figures that the half-truth is still the truth.

When Yoohyeon slightly turns her head and flicks her eyes towards her, she hastily turns back, her eyes running away from her gaze when she finds that Gahyeon is already looking.

“You’re at the right place. I come here when I want to read undisturbed.”

Yoohyeon looks so painfully tense that Gahyeon wonders if she’s overstepping, wonders if Yoohyeon forfeited her silence to accommodate her presence. “Are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

This time, Yoohyeon smiles again, kindly, her body slowly softening when Gahyeon mirrors a smile back.

“Stay, if you’d like.”

And even if Gahyeon is sick of reviewing her notes, she pulls her notebook out to study seventeenth century arithmetic while Yoohyeon opens up her book to sink into its pages.

(Maybe if Gahyeon isn’t so preoccupied with her notes, she would notice the long lingering look coming from beside her, Yoohyeon’s soft and charmed smile, the bright glow of her gaze).

Between them, only the fluttering of turned pages occupy the quiet. It’s serene and it feels a little bit like a piece of heaven—Gahyeon considers ditching her next class just to savor this moment a little longer, to be beside Yoohyeon for a little longer. 

There’s something about Yoohyeon, something about her that radiates comfort and ease. Even if she isn’t warm and talkative like Minji or lively and playful as Bora, Gahyeon craves to be around her—wishes to spend all her hours slowly unveiling the layers shielding the girl.

It might be ambitious, cracking into someone like Yoohyeon—shy, indifferent, stiff. 

But Gahyeon’s awfully ambitious when she wants to be.

~~And she wants Yoohyeon.~~

-

The library is a popular place when midterms arrive. And with the mathematical olympiad coming up for Gahyeon, she is spending the majority of her time shacked up on the fifth floor studying and preparing for her competition and exams.

Reluctantly, she puts her _Get to Know Yoohyeon_ mission on the backburner, her academics taking precedent. Mostly because she can’t afford to fail or come out of this competition without a medal. A bit of it is her own pride, a lot of it is being someone her parents can be proud of. Everyone has their own role in life and Gahyeon’s is the studious, successful student—the one whose flourishing future builds upon her steadfast education. 

(Gahyeon has made some progress since the Japanese Garden. She was able to pry out a boisterous and high-pitched laugh upon the third week of knowing her—it quickly became Gahyeon’s greatest pride, Yoohyeon’s laugh her most favorite sound. A month has passed and Yoohyeon isn’t as awkward and rigid around her—a little more comfortable, a little bolder with playing around, purposely putting herself in embarrassing situations just to make Gahyeon laugh). 

During her “too many, I can’t count” hour and her nth study break, it’s as if she is energized by the likes of five Monster drinks and a Five Hour Energy shot when Yoohyeon walks through the doors of the library. And perhaps, it’s the wear of studying for too long that Gahyeon texts her, her body impulsively calling for the relief that she finds in Yoohyeon.

_Gahyeon: Yoohyeon!! To your left!!_

Gahyeon watches as Yoohyeon reaches her phone, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, before she casts her eyes to her left. In the sea of people, it takes her a moment to find Gahyeon and her circle-wired glasses, her bright and beautiful smile shining at her.

(And Yoohyeon’s heart isn’t made out of steel. It’s impossible to not smile back, to not give back the warmth that Gahyeon radiates).

Moving her backpack off the table and patting at the empty space beside her, Gahyeon feels oddly victorious when Yoohyeon settles in beside her, like she won some kind of prize. 

Yoohyeon even looks slightly grateful, for what Gahyeon doesn’t know, when she greets her.

(It’s almost bewildering how Yoohyeon’s mere presence feels just as blissful as an award, might even beat out the feeling of being handed a shiny trophy from her math competitions).

Just like in the Japanese Garden, there is a comfortable silence that the two relish in as they study together, Gahyeon’s focus sharper than before, renewed with a spirit that urges her to do well. That is, until a heavy sigh sounds out beside her. 

With her forehead propped on her hand, the other twirling her pen, Yoohyeon looks so disgruntled and frustrated with her eyebrows knit together in confusion. Looking at her notes, the familiar signage of beta and _p < .05_, Gahyeon knows all too well what Yoohyeon is attempting to understand.

“Stats?”

Yoohyeon even groans at the subject name, her annoyance with it clear as day. “I’ve been trying to work this out and I keep getting the wrong answer and I don’t know where I’m messing up.”

Glancing at her work and the chart of information she wrote out, the error is easy for her to find. Pointing at the math done under a square root, Gahyeon counts the numbers listed in her chart and ones written out, “Your summation is wrong. I think you missed a data point in your set.”

When Yoohyeon squints at her work and trails her pencil along her data set, it’s as if she lights up when she finds the missing point. Quickly plugging it into her calculator and working out the rest of the problem, Yoohyeon slumps in relief when she ends up with the right answer. Before Gahyeon can go back to her work, a hand timidly reaches out to place itself by her notes to catch her attention, just inches away from her own hand.

“Thanks, Gahyeon. It would have taken me forever to catch that.”

(The temptation to reach out with her pinky, to graze her finger along Yoohyeon’s, is tremendous—impossible to ignore. The desire to feel her seems to take her over, Gahyeon’s resolve crumbling quickly and diminishing into nothing).

Tentatively placing her hand on top of Yoohyeon’s reassuringly, Gahyeon thinks she feels her heart rate sprint behind her chest, feels its pounding in her throat. (Even if Yoohyeon looks alarmed by the contact, she doesn’t move to retract her hand, her eyes nervously fluttering between their hands and Gahyeon).

“Don’t worry about it, Yooh. It’s nice to not look at derivatives for once.”

(If Gahyeon noticed the subconscious shortening of her name, the slip would have been enough to freeze her up. Meanwhile, the breezy reassurance and the friendly nickname seems to catch Yoohyeon off guard, her breath briefly catching in her throat).

Yoohyeon grimaces at the graphs littered around in Gahyeon’s notes, “Math has never been my strongest subject. I barely even remember pre-calc. I just remember suffering a lot in that class.” It’s like the pain of her memories comes back to color her eyes and the laugh that bubbles behind Gahyeon’s throat is unstoppable, her other hand coming up to hide her grin.

Reflexively, a smile tugs at Yoohyeon’s lips, mischief in her eyes with her pierced eyebrow arched, “You laugh at my misery?”

(Considering that this is the most of Yoohyeon Gahyeon has seen, the most open she has been with her, she relishes in the joy of finally getting a longer peek at the illusive girl that has been on her mind like a post-it note reminding her of what to do).

Taking the opportunity to joke along, Gahyeon smirks playfully, makes a small gap between her thumb and pointer finger, and squints between it, Yoohyeon’s amused grin lighting her up inside, “Only a little.”

Yoohyeon pouts—Gahyeon has to look twice to make sure she isn’t hallucinating—and lightheartedly nudges her shoulder against Gahyeon’s, “Not everyone can be a genius mathlete like you, Gahyeon-ah.”

(Honestly, Gahyeon thinks she might’ve somehow made groundbreaking process because it doesn’t seem realistic for Yoohyeon to be playing around with her and saying her name so affectionately and wait, how did Yoohyeon know about her being a mathlete?) 

It’s unfair how Yoohyeon makes her name sound so precious, how she pulls Gahyeon even deeper into her in a single breath.

It feels almost reckless, to blindly sink into everything that is Yoohyeon. But, as thrilling as it is, it feels secure—like there aren’t monsters that’ll pull her under, only the subtle warmth from the embers within Yoohyeon comforting her).

“You know about that? Me being a mathlete?”

Yoohyeon blushes a light pink that is only noticeable by the bright, fluorescent lighting of the library.

“Bora brags about you a lot. She’s really proud of you.”

(Like a light flickering on, Gahyeon beams at that, feels affectionate fondness tide her over—Bora has always been so good at supporting her).

“Well, if you ever need help with anything, I’m your girl!”

Quirking an eyebrow, Yoohyeon seems incredulous, “Even if I’m hopeless at math?”

Gahyeon just grins, the one where her eyes disappear into crescents, “I’ve enough hope for the both of us until you believe in yourself!”

Yoohyeon looks amazed for a second, a quiet inhale reminding her to breathe, before turning back to her notes with a small happy smile pulling at her lips. Even when Gahyeon turns back too, it’s like her eyes refuse to tear away as her head stays tilted towards Yoohyeon to savor the bliss of seeing her smile. And when Yoohyeon sneaks a look back, Yoohyeon’s soft gaze quickly shoots away when she finds Gahyeon’s already looking back at her. As if she is startled, Yoohyeon hastily anchors her stare back to her paper.

(Something shifted. Gahyeon feels it. Like the gentle swinging of Newton’s cradle—for every reaction, an equal and opposite reaction, an undeniable Law of Motion that precedes a chain of transformation—Gahyeon feels that something has changed, something splendidly divine). 

Shifting the hand that still rests underneath Gahyeon’s so that her fingers fall between the gaps of Yoohyeon’s, Yoohyeon’s fingers curl ever so slightly into a timid and tentative hold, her scarlet cheeks burning behind the silver curtain of her hair.

Even if Gahyeon is extremely dominant with her right hand, she figures that her left hand is capable of graphing out derivatives. Messily and almost illegibly. But possible. And that’s all that matters.

(Yoohyeon’s hand under hers, their fingers loosely laced together, is soft and warm; it’s all Gahyeon can focus on—to hell with studying derivatives).

-

It’s a full house for Gahyeon when she finishes her mathematics olympiad. (She won in all the events she participated in, as she hoped she would. Gahyeon wouldn’t admit it, she’s too humble to, but “mathlete genius” is no exaggeration—it's a well-earned title). Outside waiting for her, Minji, Bora, Siyeon, Handong, Yubin, and even Yoohyeon eagerly look out for her, a bouquet of flowers in Bora’s arms. It’s a lot, being lost in a sea of arms hugging her and congratulating her when they find her, bar Yoohyeon, but Gahyeon loves it—loves feeling loved, loves feeling treasured. 

(Gahyeon still catches the bright grin Yoohyeon wears, the eyes that affectionately glow on her, the gentle brushing of her arm when they walk side by side, a helmet held in her other arm).

Celebratory dinners are one of Gahyeon’s favorites. This time, it’s Korean barbecue and that means Minji and Bora primarily grilling the meat, Handong buying enough soju and beer to last their entire meal, and eating until she worries that she’ll have to unbutton her pants. But, more than anything, these dinners are jubilant and carefree, everything Gahyeon needs to unwind and relax after pushing herself and working hard.

(Siyeon and Yubin are relatively new to their group, but they seemed to have eased their way in smoothly. In past dinners, Siyeon temporarily took the tongs so that Minji and Bora could eat, Yubin cutting the bigger pieces of meat with the shears and feeding Siyeon big bundles of perilla leaves, meat, and kimchi—the works—as she grilled).

While Bora hands Minji her keys from her pocket, Minji does a mental headcount, “One of you are gonna have to ride with Yoohyeonnie. My car can’t take all of you.”

And Gahyeon, ever the enthusiast she is to spend more time with Yoohyeon, immediately volunteers.

(Gahyeon wonders if it’s volunteering if she doesn’t see any sacrifice in her choice. If anything, her desire to be around Yoohyeon borders selfishness).

When Yoohyeon reaches out to softly hold onto her elbow, concerned eyes look back at her, “Are you sure? I brought my bike.”

And sure, Gahyeon has never ridden a motorcycle before and that makes her nervous but somehow, if Yoohyeon is the one driving it, her nerves only feel like adrenaline and excitement. “I don’t mind! I trust you!”

Yoohyeon’s step seems to stutter, her lips slightly parting in shock. A soft, “Oh,” sounds out, like she hadn’t meant to let it go. “Okay. I can- uh…” She trails off, so transparently flustered by Gahyeon’s blunt admission, before continuing, “Follow me.”

Gahyeon subconsciously loops her arm through Yoohyeon’s as they walk to her bike, the leather of Yoohyeon’s jacket cool on her skin.

Gahyeon didn’t know what she was expecting but Yoohyeon’s motorcycle is black and sleek, undeniably badass in a breathtaking way—especially with Yoohyeon standing next to it in her leather jacket and ripped jeans, her septum and eyebrow piercings glinting off the sun’s rays. Propping the seat open, Yoohyeon pulls out another helmet, “Wear this and hold me tight.” As Yoohyeon straddles her motorcycle, Gahyeon thinks she might be lucid dreaming because there’s no way that this could be real—no way Yoohyeon could be _this_ hot. But, as she swings her leg over the bike and she wraps her arms tightly around Yoohyeon’s waist, Gahyeon finds that this life is real, that Yoohyeon _is_ this hot. And smells really good. This Gahyeon comes to know when her nose comes terribly close to nuzzling into her neck—it’s nearly impossible not to. 

(The light musk of sweet vanilla and sandalwood is addicting, so incredibly comforting).

Putting on the helmet does wonders at fighting the temptation. When Yoohyeon turns back to check on her, Gahyeon thinks she sees the upturned corner of a smile. Reaching over to push down the visor, Yoohyeon’s voice is breezy, “Don’t want anything getting in your eyes.” 

(When Gahyeon smiles at her, she can see the wrinkles of her smile in Gahyeon’s eyes. Her own grin grows larger behind her helmet at the sight).

Yoohyeon’s voice is muffled behind her helmet, but Gahyeon hears her well enough, “Ready?”

When Gahyeon subconsciously squeezes Yoohyeon’s waist in anticipation and nods, it’s only her verbal confirmation that gets Yoohyeon to kick up her stand and start the engine. 

Yoohyeon drives cautiously, warning Gahyeon when she gets onto the main street. “I’m gonna start to go faster, okay? If you need to, just hold as tight as you want.”

Gahyeon finds that she doesn’t need to hold on any tighter, Yoohyeon’s driving being smooth and reliable. But why would she turn down such a generous offer? So, she squeezes just the slightest bit tighter, presses her front flat against Yoohyeon’s back.

(Gahyeon hopes that Yoohyeon takes the ferocious beating of her heart for anything other than their close proximity, hopes that Yoohyeon just thinks she’s nervous about being on a bike, and definitely not about how she’s holding her lithe body in her arms).

(She _does_ feel infinitely safer being that much closer to Yoohyeon, wonders when she’ll ever get a chance to be this close again, savors every second of it).

It’s exhilarating, being on a motorcycle. Feeling the wind breeze through her hair, the humming of the bike under her, the pounding of her heart ricocheting against her ribs. It’s freeing, and with Yoohyeon in her arms, it feels like the safest place she could possibly be. (Gahyeon has to suppress her groan when they arrive at the restaurant; she isn’t ready to let this piece of heaven go).

But, after she parks and kills the engine and dismounts the bike, Yoohyeon takes off her helmet, shakes her hair out like she’s in a fucking hair commercial, and offers Gahyeon her hand to help her off like she’s a fucking prince(ss) helping out their princess. 

(Honestly, Gahyeon’s really happy her helmet covers her mouth because she definitely does not have the restraint to stop her jaw from dropping, feels so incredibly charmed by Yoohyeon).

Before Gahyeon takes her hand, Yoohyeon warns, “Watch out for the exhaust pipe, Gahyeon-ah. It’ll burn you.” Taking extra care to avoid the metal, Gahyeon thinks that Yoohyeon needs to come with a warning too because she positively _melts_ with affection at the sound of her name falling from Yoohyeon’s lips. As Yoohyeon stores Gahyeon’s helmet in her bike’s compartment, Yoohyeon takes hers and carries it under her arm.

“Why don’t you put your helmet in Minji’s car? She wouldn’t mind.”

Yoohyeon just shrugs, grips her helmet tighter, “Eh, I don’t mind carrying it—it’s nothing.” 

Gently taking the helmet from her arms and smiling reassuringly, Gahyeon reaches a hand out to place it on her shoulder. (It’s a little awkward since Yoohyeon is so much taller than her but her shoulders loosen under her touch and it’s worth looking a little silly for). “If it’s nothing, then Minji _really_ wouldn’t care. No need to worry about it when it can safely be in her car, Yoohyeonnie.”

Gahyeon is perfectly aware that she is testing her limits by taking her helmet and adding in a nickname, but it seems like she’s within her line because Yoohyeon deflates and gives in, a small pout sitting on her lips.

(It’s extremely cute.

And baffling.

Not just a minute ago, Yoohyeon looked like something straight out of a magnificent dream—shaking out her wavy, silver hair from under her helmet with the sun glowing on her like a spotlight, eyes closed and looking way more sensual than should be possible. And now, with a pout weighing down on her lips and puppy dog eyes looking at her, Gahyeon feels like she might need a minute to process exactly what it is she is feeling.

Clearly, it’s attraction, that much she knows. 

But, Yoohyeon is so beautiful, so cute, so hot, it’s starting to hurt.

Is it the whiplash? Or is it that Gahyeon is starting to want someone who might not want her back?

Gahyeon chooses to ignore this thought—a Korean barbecue restaurant is not the place to start wallowing).

And just as Gahyeon said, Minji has no qualms taking Yoohyeon’s helmet and storing it in her trunk, waves off Yoohyeon’s polite, “Thank you,” with a bright smile.

Minji even ruffles her hair fondly and adds, “I’d do anything for you, Yoohyeonnie. When will your amazing brain accept that, puppy?”

Yoohyeon simply shrugs, fixes her hair, and smiles sheepishly. “Never?”

Minji just rolls her eyes playfully before going back to grilling the meat.

(With the comfortability that Minji has around Yoohyeon, how Yoohyeon’s detached nature falls away so quickly, Gahyeon thinks that there is so much more to them than she knows. It’s not easy slipping past Yoohyeon’s walls, that Gahyeon is experiencing, but Minji seems to have slunk her way there long before Yoohyeon even began building her defenses).

(Minji makes grilling meat look so extravagant. With her face fully done up, lashes and all, silver on her wrists, hoop earrings glimmering whenever she turns her head, and her choice of techwear today—black super cropped hoodie, silver chains clipped to the front, black bandeau, black cargo pants with the band of her panties coming up over the top, and combat boots—she looks intimidating to say the least. But Gahyeon knows better because once Minji opens her mouth, nothing but the sweetest things leave her lips). 

When Handong offers Yoohyeon soju, the girl just politely refuses and says, “I’m driving, thank you, though, Dongie!” 

(It _is_ cute, however, that whenever the group cheers with their beer and soju shots, Yoohyeon and Minji clink with their cold glasses of water).

It’s curious to Gahyeon, how Yoohyeon, Siyeon, and Yubin came to be friends with Minji, Bora, and Handong. Even if they come from two completely different groups, it becomes clearer and clearer the more Gahyeon spends time with them. 

This ragtag mess of six may have different appearances but their hearts are all on the same page—all hearts concerned about making each other happy and being good to each other. 

It makes a lot of sense, really. To be able to worm past Yoohyeon’s defenses, Gahyeon thinks it takes someone spectacular. And watching how Yoohyeon regards her friends, it’s easy to see how precious they are to her, how much she is willing to sacrifice for them.

Gahyeon hopes that she can fit into this, fit into Yoohyeon’s heart somehow. In whatever way possible.

There are certain things worth hoping for—Gahyeon believes, with her whole heart, that Yoohyeon is someone worth hoping for.

When Yoohyeon drops her off at her dorm after they finish eating and Gahyeon lives another dream of holding Yoohyeon close to her on her bike, she quickly sweeps Gahyeon into a bear hug that she melts into. (Strikingly, even the smell of cooking meat can’t mask the calming scent of vanilla and sandalwood). Yoohyeon’s voice sounds admiring—dare Gahyeon even think, proud. 

“You were amazing today, Gahyeon-ah. You deserve your awards.”

(Hugs are nice.

Yoohyeon’s hugs are _really_ nice.

Comfortable, safe, special).

When Gahyeon wakes up the next day, she lays in her bed with her hand over her eyes, exasperatedly thinks, _Fuck_ , because she just dreamt about kissing Yoohyeon and things just got a whole lot messier and, shit, all she can think about is her dream—the ghost of Yoohyeon’s soft lips on hers, how gorgeous she looked, how good it felt to be _enough_ for her. 

Gahyeon wonders for how long she can ignore these feelings, how long she can pretend that Yoohyeon isn’t already taking the throne in her heart.

-

Sometimes Gahyeon questions her life decisions. 

Like why did she choose to take AP Chemistry in high school when she didn’t need to? (Answer: Gahyeon was shooting for valedictorian and taking anything but AP classes was out of the question). Why did she ever think that doing five consistent leg days at the gym would make her feel good? (All it did was give her sore thighs and calves and the inability to move without an immense amount of pain—and not the good, satisfactory kind). 

This one is no different. She’s a math major. Why the hell was she taking a Fundamentals of Chinese class? There are so many other electives out there—philosophy, sociology, art history, creative writing. Why did she choose Chinese? (Answer: she wants to understand Handong when she rambles off in Chinese when she gets carried away or upset. It’s a stretch, Gahyeon knows, but she has to start somewhere).

Languages are hard. It’s a miracle she barely grasps English as it is. Writing is difficult, pronouncing words makes Gahyeon feel ridiculous, and God forbid, reading is a disaster. Handong helps whenever she can but she’s a busy woman between running her online shopping boutique and tending to her schoolwork and classes.

It’s not often that she struggles with academics. She can usually figure her way around her problems whenever she gets stuck, but Gahyeon thinks she can’t get through this one without some help. 

And there’s nothing wrong with needing help—hell, needing help is one of the main reasons why she’s consistently seeing Yoohyeon. 

It took Yoohyeon a while, but she eventually reached out to Gahyeon for help.

_“Hey, Gahyeon, can you help me? You’re free to say no! If you’re busy, I totally get it and I can go into office hours or something but, I’m not understanding what’s going on in stats right now.”_

_Yoohyeon looks awfully hesitant to be asking, her fingers wringing together, her eyes unable to hold Gahyeon’s. Frowning at the tangible trepidation that emanates from her, Gahyeon wants nothing more than to ease her worries. Reaching for her hands and holding them in hers, a smile grows on her lips when Yoohyeon laces their fingers together instead._

_“I have all the time in the world, Yooh.”_

_(That’s not entirely true; she has a Number Theory exam to study for but Gahyeon is fairly confident in her ability to cram in a twenty-minute review before the class starts)._

_Contrary to what Yoohyeon thinks, she isn’t completely hopeless when it comes to understanding statistics. All it takes is Gahyeon walking her through a few problems, explaining ANOVA, and clearly breaking down the equation in comprehensible parts._

_(Gahyeon is just thankful that she took Probability and Statistics last semester and that she still remembers how to carry out hypothesis testing)._

_If it weren’t for them getting distracted and laughing between every other problem, Gahyeon thinks she could have gotten away with forty or so minutes of exam review._

_(Gahyeon can’t help that Yoohyeon is so good at making her laugh, so good at talking about anything and everything with her)._

_But for some reason, it’s infinitely amusing when Yoohyeon says, “So, I reject the hoe?”_

_A laugh bubbles and bursts from her lips, an exuberant sound, “Yeah, you reject the null hypothesis, Yoohyeonnnie.”_

So, Gahyeon shoots her shot and sends Handong a text.

_Dongie <3: Can you help me with Chinese please _🥺🥺🥺

Handong replies quickly, a good sign.

_Dongie <3: im doing some things for my shop but come over! we’re almost done _🤩

Packing up her notebook and making her way from the library to Minji, Bora, and Handong’s dorm, Gahyeon tugs the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her hands, the winter cold biting.

As soon as Handong opens the door, she pulls Gahyeon in with urgency.

“Tell me if this looks good? I mean I know it looks good, but I like hearing it.”

Gahyeon’s eyebrows are furrowed, looking lost as Handong leads her further into their dorm. 

Air? Gahyeon doesn’t know that is when she finds Yoohyeon standing in the middle of their dorm. Dressed in khaki-colored dress pants and an oversized blazer of the same color, Yoohyeon fixes the white satin-button up she wears, careful to not mess up the bowtie Handong spent some time adjusting, and the feathers pinned to the lapel of the blazer. 

It’s entirely unfair how charmingly handsome Yoohyeon looks—completely unfair that someone so gorgeous walks this putrid earth. (Gahyeon thinks that only celestial planes are suitable for the likes of someone like Yoohyeon. But, as Yoohyeon exists in this undeserving world, Gahyeon takes extra care of cherishing this sublime beauty in front of her). 

“How does it look? I gave this to Bora to model first but she drowned in how big the blazer is.”

Gahyeon tries not to openly gape or make her winded breath too obvious. “She looks- it looks really good, Dongie.”

Handong smirks at the compliment, nods confidently and ushers Yoohyeon to the blank white wall. “Put your hands in your pockets or something; don’t just stand there, Yooh.” 

Quickly following her command, Yoohyeon coolly stands with one hand in her pocket, the other loosely holding the lapel of her blazer. A couple more shots and poses later, Yoohyeon is relieved of her model duties and happily changes back into her clothes.

(Suit or not, Yoohyeon is still able to take Gahyeon’s breath away because even when she changes back into her black crop top and black leather jacket and jeans, Gahyeon struggles to calm the pummeling pounding of her heart.

Yoohyeon makes it horribly difficult. Ignoring what she feels is impossible when Yoohyeon grins at her and settles in beside her, her hand on Gahyeon’s lap. It’s impossible to stop her racing thoughts, impossible to not want her).

“What brings you here?”

It takes a second for Gahyeon to remember—her thoughts only revolving around Yoohyeon like she’s the fucking sun and life is Yoohyeon-centric. “Uh…Dongie is gonna help me with my Chinese class.”

Yoohyeon brightens at that. “You’re taking Chinese? I can help you! I’m not fluent like Dongie but I’m level ten!” (It’s so endearing how proud Yoohyeon is of herself, her quiet confidence in how she carries herself). 

Playing with the hand on her lap, Gahyeon doesn’t have it in her to tear her eyes away from Yoohyeon’s grin. “You’re a language genius, Yooh! English, Japanese, and Chinese? That’s awesome!”

(Gahyeon likes her decision to keep her eyes trained on Yoohyeon because Yoohyeon’s lips pull into a grand smile, her eyes disappearing into crescents, at the compliment. She blushes a light pink that Gahyeon catches and she feels an insurmountable pride build in her—she likes making Yoohyeon smile like this, feels good about herself when she gets her to blush).

“I wouldn’t know Chinese if it weren’t for Handong.”

Done with hanging the clothes and posting the pictures, Handong falls to the bed with grace, her legs laying across theirs. “I would’ve been friendless if it weren’t for Yoohyeon.” 

Yoohyeon smiles down at Handong. Gahyeon thinks she can feel the tender affection spilling from her gaze.

(Yoohyeon is so good at making everyone feel so special, so unique, and so precious to her. Even if Gahyeon has yet to see past all her layers, Yoohyeon is already so good to her—kind and caring, sweet and so wonderfully reliable.

It’s not just that Yoohyeon is Aphrodite’s reincarnate that Gahyeon finds herself so captivated by her. It’s her selflessness and loyalty, her drive to make the people around her happy—her heart’s vast ability to love). 

“That’s not true! You would’ve made friends with or without me! I just tricked you into thinking Minji and Bora were cool.”

Handong laughs, a joyful sound, “They may be losers, but they’re really fucking good at partying.”

(And Handong is right. Minji and Bora are notorious partiers and they know their way around. They’re good at making everyone feel comfortable and welcomed, good at letting loose, and surrendering their control. The first rave the three went to, Bora happily sacrificed her usual spot on Minji’s shoulders for Handong just so that she can see the DJ over the sea of heads).

“No but really. Yoohyeon learned Chinese just to try to talk to me while she helped me with Korean. Coming here, not really knowing the language and feeling alone, it was scary. But she made the change easier.” 

Yoohyeon smiles softly, gratefully, like she is taking Handong’s words to heart.

There is an inexplicable comfort in sharing a space with Yoohyeon—Gahyeon just wants to hold onto this irreplaceable feeling and bring it close, never let it go. 

But her Chinese exam nags her from the back of her mind.

And as it goes, Chinese conventions are no match to Handong and Yoohyeon’s expertise. Gahyeon aces her Chinese exam with extra credit points to spare _—_ Yoohyeon buys her a celebratory lunch.

(She hugs her too, even presses a sweet kiss to her temple. Gahyeon tries to ignore the thundering of her heartbeat, tries to ignore how her entire body lights up at the feeling of her lips on her skin, tries to ignore the heat of desire for more because Gahyeon doesn’t want to ask for too much.

Yoohyeon makes it so fucking hard).

-

It’s not rare for Gahyeon to pick up the phone to have Bora shouting into the receiver.

“Gahyeonnie! Come to my dorm ASAP! It’s code pink!”

Gahyeon furrows her eyebrows—the only code they have between them is red for dangerous situations. Still, Gahyeon hastily makes her way over after washing her face and getting ready.

When Bora opens the door, Gahyeon feels her heart stumble in her chest when she finds Yoohyeon leaning against the frame of Handong and Bora’s (unused) bunk bed.

(She looks so good in her red and black striped long-sleeve shirt, an oversized tee layered over it, a choker wrapped around her neck, and ripped, black jeans, her silver hair braided. (And wait. When did Yoohyeon have a lip piercing? That definitely wasn’t there before—Gahyeon would have remembered something as...life-changing as that). Finally, in a fashion that seems to complement Yoohyeon’s personality, mismatched black and white fuzzy socks cover her feet).

With a clipboard in hand, Bora stands in the middle of the room with her white muscle tank and blue boyfriend jeans.

“As you all may know, the Jiboversary is coming up very quickly, tomorrow to be specific, and I’m recruiting all the help possible to get everything done! Singnie and Yubs are on the way and Minji’s gone today to hang out with her lovely family. We have this day only to turn this godforsaken room into a romantic getaway—Handong, thank you for agreeing to bunk up at Yoohyeon’s place.”

(Bora truly can talk incredibly quickly when she has a lot to say. Gahyeon silently marvels at Bora’s speedy monologue).

Handong smirks playfully and throws a teasing stare at the tall girl, “It’s not like Yoohyeon uses her own bed anyway. She’s always in Yubin’s.”

Yoohyeon gawks with an offended scoff, her arms folded defiantly, “Yubin has memory foam under her sheets and she’s always in Siyeon’s anyway!”

Handong purses her lips and teasingly gibes, “All I hear are excuses.” Even if Yoohyeon goes over to playfully shake Handong’s shoulders (she shakes so much that Handong’s head bobbles comically), their laughs are infectious and true, Yoohyeon laying herself across Handong’s lap when their laughter fades away.

True to Bora’s word, Siyeon and Yubin arrive not too long after, Bora pushing everyone in different directions to set up the room. While Handong and Yoohyeon are left to string lights around their room (because they’re the tallest out of the six and Bora’s greatest hopes at reaching), Siyeon and Yubin are out buying an obscene number of roses and groceries while Bora assigns Gahyeon the important task of helping her design a cake.

Gahyeon doesn’t know why Bora chose her—she’s absolute shit at anything having to do with drawing or decorating. But Bora trusts her anyway to decorate a bunny-shaped cookie and to cut up fruit for the cake. So, Gahyeon does her best because Bora trusts her, because Minji doesn’t deserve an ugly bunny cookie.

“I had a hard time thinking of what to do. Minji and I have been together for a few years now. And I know it’s not a competition, but Minji’s always going out of her way and pulling out all the stops for our anniversaries and dates. I just want to be able to do the same for her.” Bora focuses her attention to swirling the frosting as prettily as she can along the circumference of the cake. 

Bora seems to scoff out a laugh, as if laughing at herself.

“I used to think that I wasn’t enough for her. I mean, look at Minji! She’s so beautiful and amazing—I think anyone who looks at her wants her.” Talking about Minji always brings the brightest out of Bora, her eyes sparkling and her smile warm. “I always felt as if I had to constantly prove myself to her, that I’m worth her time. You know how she used to get so easily bored with people. I didn’t want her to get bored of me.”

Bora takes a second to flex her fingers and give them a break from squeezing the piping bag. “I was so worried about it and I didn’t know who to go to. I was scared to talk about it with Minji. And Yoohyeon, she’s been friends with Minji since before high school.” Looking up and glancing at Yoohyeon, she has fairy lights strung around her, her arms restrained to her sides, Handong laughing at the tangled mess in front of her before carefully undoing the wires. 

“So, I went to Yoohyeonnie. If there’s one person in the world who knows Minji better than me, it’s her.” When Bora turns her attention towards Yoohyeon, a fond smile pulls at her lips. “I used to hate her. Okay, maybe not hate. But I felt threatened by her.” 

(Gahyeon’s eyebrows jump in shock. It’s not often that Bora is intimidated by anyone). 

Bora shakes her head, amused that she ever found Yoohyeon unnerving, “Not because of how she looks—I saw through her quickly; she’s a puppy. But she’s Minji’s best friend and she treasures her. It took so long for Yoohyeon to open up to me. But when she did, I understood why Minji loves her so much. Because I love her too.”

(Gahyeon believes it because Bora looks at Yoohyeon with so much tenderness, her honey gaze looking so affectionately at her).

“When Minji and I first started getting serious and I was really unsure about everything, I went to Yoohyeon, drunk off my fucking ass. Crying my eyes out about my girl problems.” Bora grimaces, as if the memory coming to her pains her, “It’s so...embarrassing; I barfed on her shoes that night. But she didn’t even get mad at me. She just threw her shoes away, cleaned up my mess, and tucked me into her bed and slept on the floor. And then she bought me breakfast in the morning and talked me through my worries.”

Bora smiles softly then, as if she is pulled back to that morning, sitting across from Yoohyeon, nursing a hangover and a weary heart.

_“Minji talks about you every day. I swear, I could tell you things about you that you’d never expect me to know. Like how you like cooking abalone for her—she really enjoys it, by the way. Or how you can’t go to sleep without a good night kiss.”_

_Yoohyeon’s eyes are kind and reassuring._

_“Trust in her, Bora. Minji won’t run away from you or abandon you. You’re different from everyone else. I can see it in her eyes; I hear it in how she talks about you.” In this moment, it’s as if all of Yoohyeon’s layers are stripped, as if Bora is seeing all of Yoohyeon for the first time, when she reaches over to grasp her hand in hers with pleading care in her eyes, “All I ask of you is that you’ll be good to her. She deserves someone who’ll put her first—she’s always putting herself last and she’ll never stop doing that. She deserves to be remembered and never forgotten. Can you do that?”_

_Bora is always careful about making promises, but she is willing to promise that she will always do her best to protect Minji’s heart—and that is enough._

_She is more than enough._

Looking back at the conversation, a warmth glows in Bora’s heart, a warmth that ripples and shines on Gahyeon—so much that she feels it in her own chest too. “She’s the type of person to put everyone in the world first before her. She doesn’t expect anything in return. She just...gives, gives, gives. Because she wants to.” 

(Gahyeon doesn’t need Bora telling her that for her to believe it—Yoohyeon’s kindness and selflessness is unconditional).

Bora continues, “And that’s why I went to her. Because I know that she puts Minji’s happiness first. And she knows exactly what Minji likes and what she wants. Whenever I get into my head and I don’t want to bother Minji about it, I always go to Yoohyeon and she always gets me out.” Bora sighs, her mind lost in thought, “Yooh, she’s done a lot for us.”

(Gahyeon can’t help but to wonder, if Yoohyeon is always putting others before her, who will put Yoohyeon first? Because even if Gahyeon has known her for three months, she fully believes that the sun would sooner swallow the earth whole before Yoohyeon would choose to put herself first for the sake of being greedy.

Yoohyeon deserves someone who will put her first too.

She deserves to know that it’s not a burden to care for her, to love her).

(Gahyeon wonders, thinks, believes, that she’s capable).

(When Minji comes home from her parents’ house, Bora has scattered rose petals everywhere in the room, Minji’s bed covered in roses that read out, “U over Illenium any day <3” with bottles of Blue Label and Hennessy XO precariously placed in the middle. 

Gahyeon doesn’t hear or see from them over the weekend, their blissed out faces and happiness shining like the brightness of the sun reflecting its light off the moon when they greet Gahyeon on campus on Monday).

-

For wanting to ignore her feelings for Yoohyeon, Gahyeon really shouldn’t spend so much time with her. It’s common sense. The more time Gahyeon spends with her, the more Yoohyeon lowers her guard for her, the more Gahyeon sees how much she likes her—how much there is to like about her. (Which, by the way, there is _so much_ ). It’s futile trying to ignore her feelings, not when she craves to be around Yoohyeon, not when she gives in to her desire without second thought.

(Gahyeon would rather drown in all her feelings than give up on being around Yoohyeon—she’s far too lovely, far too wonderful, for Gahyeon to distance herself.

And it’s not like Yoohyeon deserves that either. Yoohyeon doesn’t deserve to think that something has gone astray or that she has done something wrong to her. No, Yoohyeon doesn’t deserve that at all—not when she is so altruistically considerate).

Yet, Gahyeon is at Yoohyeon’s shared apartment with Siyeon and Yubin, backpack slung on her arm. (Gahyeon’s excuse this time is that her dormmates Dahyun and Taeha are working on some kind of science experiment and Gahyeon really doesn’t want to be there when something goes wrong because something always goes wrong with those two and spontaneous science trials). 

Gahyeon was planning on crashing at Bora’s again but while whining about it to Siyeon, Yubin, and Yoohyeon at the campus restaurant, they graciously offered their place. And she isn’t the best at refusing anything when it comes to Yoohyeon. So, with a change of clothes in her backpack and her necessities, Gahyeon accepts her fate.

(Her fate being spending an entire night with Yoohyeon and trying her best not to fall even harder for her).

(Gahyeon already knows that it’s pointless to try but, she’s painfully persistent when she wants to be).

Yubin opens the door to their apartment and she looks so unbelievably soft in her matching pajama set and panda slippers. “Hey Gahyeon! Come in!”

Their place is small, only two bedrooms and a bathroom, their living room and kitchen mushed together into one constrained area. 

It’s humble and cozy.

Following Yubin through their place, Gahyeon finds Siyeon and Yoohyeon on the couch—Siyeon making a bed out of Yoohyeon as she serenely sleeps across her back. Yoohyeon just scrolls through her phone in the meantime, shallow breaths leaving her lips. (It’s a little hard to breathe for her at the moment, but Siyeon has been having trouble sleeping lately and Yoohyeon doesn’t have it in her to wake her up). Slowly and slightly raising her head when she hears footsteps, a smile blooms on her lips the way carnations do when she notices Gahyeon behind Yubin. Dropping her phone to the floor to lightly wave, Yoohyeon freezes when Siyeon shifts in her sleep, loosens up when Siyeon’s breath continues to evenly whistle past her ear.

When Yoohyeon starts to think that she sees stars in her vision, Yubin clambers on top of Siyeon and Yoohyeon.

Yoohyeon thinks she might see Andromeda in the distance.

“Wake up, Singnie! Gahyeon is here!”

Siyeon sleepily grumbles, swats in Yubin’s direction like she’s a fly. Yubin just slips off the couch and pokes the fat on Siyeon’s cheek. “C’mon, Si! Yoohyeon’s two seconds from passing out.”

Ungracefully rolling off of her and stumbling to a stand with Yubin’s help, Siyeon sleepily waves at Gahyeon before burrowing into Yubin, her arms holding her close like she’s a teddy bear.

At Siyeon’s immediate absence, Yoohyeon’s body seems to inflate as she inhales several deep breaths of air, her lungs expanding to their fullest for the first time in thirty minutes.

It’s interesting seeing a more domestic side of Yoohyeon. No longer is she dressed up in her usual punk-grunge clothes. Lounging it up, she’s in black and white Adidas track pants and a baggy white Adidas hoodie, its logo filled with a rainbow of colors, glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose.

She looks so soft and cuddly and Gahyeon wonders what it must be like to be Siyeon—to be so close to her and to relish in Yoohyeon’s innate safety, enough to deeply fall asleep. (It’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t the slightest bit jealous. Gahyeon hates how irrational jealousy makes her feel).

Gahyeon doesn’t know what she’s expecting, but hanging out with Siyeon, Yoohyeon, and Yubin is a relaxed affair. Siyeon wraps Yoohyeon into a never-ending competition of Super Mario Kart because she insists on winning without Yoohyeon purposely losing and Siyeon is, quite frankly, shit at video games. It’s entertaining though—it’s a lot of Siyeon laughing maniacally whenever she sends a blue shell Yoohyeon’s way and Yoohyeon screaming about the inconvenience. 

And as soon as the other remotes finish charging, Siyeon forfeits the Super Mario Kart for Super Smash Bros where Gahyeon quickly catches onto Yubin and Siyeon ganging up on Yoohyeon. When Gahyeon comes to Yoohyeon’s aid and they are eventually left to fight each other, Yoohyeon’s lips pull into a smirk when she manages to obtain the Smash ball to promptly end the match. (Yoohyeon still tugs Gahyeon into a tight and appreciative hug for evening out the playing field as the character map screen shows, happily joyous to have Gahyeon on her side).

As the night continues to fall, Yoohyeon pulls Gahyeon away.

“We were wondering, and it’s okay if you’re not, is smoking alright with you?”

Yoohyeon looks so attentive and earnest, so much that Gahyeon doesn’t even hesitate to answer, “Oh, I don’t like weed. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. But I don’t mind if any of you want to.”

Yoohyeon smiles sincerely, fixes a stray hair by running her fingers through Gahyeon’s hair. “I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you before we did anything.”

(Yoohyeon’s thoughtfulness only makes the immense admiration in her heart grow. It’s impossible to ignore when everything that she feels is so overwhelming).

While a movie plays in the background, a packed pipe circles among the three. Gahyeon is content to just watch as Siyeon and Yubin giggle at nothing together, how Yoohyeon’s grin is bigger and how it makes her eyes disappear into a smile. Everything is silly and Yoohyeon is noticeably more relaxed, her arms tangling Gahyeon up in a hug that she has no intention of getting out of, her cheeks playfully smooshing up against hers when Yoohyeon coos at the fluffiness of her cheeks.

(It’s not that Yoohyeon is any more or any less different when she’s high, just less cautious and filtered—more vulnerable and bold about what she wants).

Eventually, the munchies kick in during their mini karaoke party. Siyeon and Yubin are passionately rapping to Outsider’s _Oetori_ while the three of them have the time of their lives, dorkily dancing to the song. (Of course, Gahyeon joins along. How could she not? This is carefree and exultant joy). As soon as the song finishes, Yoohyeon takes her phone to order pizza for them in the muted quiet of her room while Siyeon chooses another song.

When Siyeon starts to sing her own rendition of EXO’s _Overdose_ , Yubin sloths on the couch beside Gahyeon. Lolling her attention at Gahyeon, Yubin’s lids are heavy, her eyes red. Abruptly, she questions, “Gahyeon-ah, do you like Yoohyeonnie?”

Feeling like a spotlight harshly beams on her, it’s like the blood running through her body freezes.

Yubin waves dismissively, “Don’t worry; you’re not too obvious and Yoohyeon is oblivious to things like this because she doesn’t think she’s worthy of being liked.” A frown knits Yubin’s eyebrows together, as if unhappy with the thought and Yoohyeon’s insecurity. She continues, “Our Yoohyeon, she’s like...an onion. She has all these layers to protect herself, to hide what she wants and feels. She’s too selfless for her own good. So hard on herself. If you like her…if you ever want anything with her, the only way you’ll get there is if you ask.”

Yubin looks so serious, so unfathomably protective of Yoohyeon, “When it comes to things like this, Yooh’s never gonna ask for anything and she’s never gonna be the person to make the first move.”

Siyeon plops down onto the couch, right on Yubin’s lap. “Didn’t we discuss this? Yoohyeonnie is like baklava. So many layers, sweet, yummy.”

(Gahyeon’s eyebrow arches at the last word, figures that Siyeon’s dreamy eyes and distant mind are thinking about the dessert more than Yoohyeon herself).

Siyeon continues as soon as she brings her attention back, “Point is, whatever you feel isn’t our business but Yoohyeon is ours and if it concerns her, we’ll always want the best for her. Her happiness matters the most.”

Whether it’s the moment or the comfortability that Gahyeon has around the couple, she feels like she can be honest with herself for once, can confront the fear eating away at her with Siyeon and Yubin by her side.

Fiddling her fingers and allowing for her uncertainty to show, Gahyeon allows herself to wonder, to question, “Do I make her happy?”

Siyeon rests her head against Gahyeon’s temple, softly squeezes her hand in hers, “I think you know the answer to that, Gahyeonnie. You’re always looking over her and paying attention to her.”

Like everything she has locked up breaks free, Gahyeon expels the weight of her feelings with a heavy and drawn-out sigh.

Yoohyeon always looks so bright around her, always smiling, always seeking her out and doing everything she can to make her laugh. Yoohyeon treats her like she’s precious, like there is only one of her in the universe and like there will never be another. Yoohyeon makes her want to be like an open book, to let herself be read with the utmost care and respect because Yoohyeon doesn’t treat precious things recklessly. 

It’s safe. Yoohyeon is safe.

And because Gahyeon is falling in love with her—day by day, second by second—she knows the answer. She knows what happiness looks like on Yoohyeon because she is always trying to be the reason for it. 

Yubin glugs half of her water bottle before offering it to Siyeon, “Being scared of what you feel is okay. I used to think I could control what I feel. It’s pointless. We can’t control what we feel. But we can control how we react to it. Feelings are irrational but we can try to be rational about how we show them.” Yubin’s gaze is loving when she looks at Siyeon—like Siyeon is the one to prove this to her. “Big feelings are a big responsibility. Do you trust yourself with them?”

Some part of Gahyeon knows this to mean, “Do you trust yourself with Yoohyeon?”. With how much she cares for her and how Yoohyeon makes her feel like she can do anything, Gahyeon wants to believe that she does.

Accepting this answer means accepting her feelings—letting them exist without judging them and fearing them.

And she wants to accept. She wants to accept the incandescent and vibrant love flourishing within her with her whole heart.

The art of accepting and understanding feelings is as beautiful as it is intimidating. 

Gahyeon wants to try—wants to better understand her feelings, her affection, for Yoohyeon as beautiful. Because everything Yoohyeon touches is beautiful and something like falling for Yoohyeon is a beautiful feeling. 

-

Spring is a heavenly season and it’s even more heavenly because Gahyeon doesn’t have a pollen allergy. All the flowers bloom with marvelous color, the weather is fair and perfect, and spring break is right around the corner.

(But more importantly, Gahyeon has found the beauty in falling in love with Yoohyeon. 

Sure, it’s not necessarily the season of spring inspiring this change, but it’s nice to think so. 

It truthfully just took some time, openly gazing at Yoohyeon and not looking away when she looks back (Yoohyeon always blushes whenever it happens and it’s so endlessly endearing), and becoming comfortable with the caterpillars in her stomach. (At this point, those caterpillars have turned into butterflies eating through her fears—butterflies whose wings have Yoohyeon’s name delicately detailed on them, butterflies whose fluttering make her feel whole and complete).

(Truly, falling in love with Yoohyeon is such a radical feeling, a feeling that comes with thoughts, thoughts that have changed her for the better).

Gahyeon can’t control what she feels, but she has more control than ever. To not be afraid, to fall, to trust that what she feels is okay, Gahyeon feels like this is intentional now—feels like she is choosing Yoohyeon instead of blindly fumbling around and risking hurting Yoohyeon in the process).

“The cherry blossoms are in full bloom! I really want to see them!”

Yoohyeon looks up from her Race, Gender, and Class notes and meets Gahyeon’s wishful eyes. “Wanna go?”

Fueled with excitement, Gahyeon’s eyes shine as her dazzling smile glimmers, “Right now?!”

Fondly breathing out a laugh, Yoohyeon closes her notebook, “We don’t have classes tomorrow, I’m done with my homework. My time is yours!”

Standing with such enthusiasm that her chair pushes away from her, Gahyeon packs up with expeditious speed. “Let’s go then!” As soon as Yoohyeon is done with cleaning up, Gahyeon impatiently grasps her hand and rushes out the library.

(Yoohyeon is giggling behind her as she hustles out and the effervescent sound is the wind beneath the wings of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach).

“Wait! Gahyeonnie! I have to get a spare helmet from my place!”

(Yoohyeon is extremely strict about this. She won’t move an inch with her bike if Gahyeon’s head isn’t protected by a helmet).

So, while Yoohyeon goes off to retrieve another helmet (with Gahyeon’s backpack stuffed in the compartment of her bike for safekeeping at Yoohyeon’s place so that it’s not a burden on their trip), Gahyeon restlessly waits at the front of their university. The only thing that redeems this is watching Yoohyeon mounting her bike and fitting her helmet on before driving away.

(It’s quite simple to her. Yoohyeon is a hot girl. Motorcycles are badass. The math is undeniable: hot girl and badass motorcycle equals extremely hot).

Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long for Yoohyeon to come back—her place isn’t too far and she is granted a free pass against traffic by virtue of her motorcycle.

Before Yoohyeon kicks off, a gloved hand gently holds one wrapped around her stomach, “Ready?” Like usual, Yoohyeon only starts her engine when she hears positive confirmation from behind her, a squeeze around her waist to accompany it.

(Before Yoohyeon even backs out, a fond smile hides behind her helmet when she checks behind her. Flipping the visor of Gahyeon’s helmet down, Gahyeon is just happy to see the wrinkling of Yoohyeon’s eye-smile before it gets shaded by the polycarbonate).

Yeouido is bustling. 

Cherry blossom festivals invite eyes and bodies from all around the world and it’s a miracle that Yoohyeon even finds parking. 

The rows of cherry blossom trees bloom with delicate flowers on its branches, soft pinks and whites dotting along the bright blue sky. 

It’s a wondrous sight, feels even more so to be seeing them with Yoohyeon’s hand in hers. 

(Yoohyeon sticks out like a sore thumb. In all the beautiful pastels and soft colors of the flowers, Yoohyeon’s favorite black leather jacket and her white t-shirt and black jeans are a vastly different image to that of the spring but Gahyeon loves it anyway.

And then there’s also the clunky backpack strapped to her back. Only her helmet is in it, Gahyeon’s stored in her bike’s compartment).

After marveling at the cherry blossom trees and getting lost in their conversation, they find themselves walking along Han River. It’s hard trying to find a place that isn’t bombarded by people and chatter but the further they travel towards the end of the cherry blossom trees, it is more isolated and quiet. 

Yoohyeon walks with her hands stuffed in her pockets, Gahyeon’s arm looped through hers.

She finds herself thinking that Yoohyeon’s pretty smile beats out the beauty of the flowers by eons. (And when Yoohyeon was smiling amongst the cherry blossoms? Gahyeon’s breath got caught in her throat more times than she is able to count. She swears it’s like the stars shone in Yoohyeon’s eyes, swears that there is no other existence she would want if it doesn’t include cherry blossom trees and Yoohyeon smiling down at her happily).

Yoohyeon shakes her from her thoughts when she stops underneath a tree and moves to the side and under its branches.

(On the slope that they are on, Gahyeon stands at Yoohyeon’s height and she likes not having to crane her neck just to look into her eyes. She wants to sacrifice a flower to place it behind Yoohyeon’s ear, thinks Yoohyeon will look so stunning).

“You look pretty today. And happy. Happiness really suits you, Gahyeon-ah.”

(Being called pretty by a pretty girl, especially a pretty girl that she likes _very_ much, feels like an honor—feels like wearing a bright and shiny badge). 

Looking over at her, Yoohyeon is blushing, her shy eyes dancing between Gahyeon and the cherry blossoms. 

(It’s such a juxtaposition—Yoohyeon’s sweet and bashful demeanor and the cool, intimidating piercings on her face.

Today, Yoohyeon has chosen to wear her lip piercing.

Any day that Yoohyeon wears her lip piercing is a good day to Gahyeon). 

When Gahyeon returns the compliment, Yoohyeon tries to mask how it affects her but the grin that pulls at the left corner of her lips is stubborn—it’s absolutely heartwarming to see Yoohyeon look so flustered and flattered.

Watching as Yoohyeon rises to her tiptoes, she plucks a flower from its place on a branch. Slowly reaching with her hand and neatly tucking Gahyeon’s hair behind her ear, Yoohyeon’s hand lingers there—careful as if the slightest amount of pressure would shatter her. With a small and gentle smile, she slips the flower there with soft, yet tangible devotion in her eyes.

To be looked at so reverently is an overwhelming feeling. To have Yoohyeon so close to her, to be so lucky for her to show that vulnerable smile to her, the affection rumbling behind her chest grows and grows until it spills and covers every part of her sternum and ribs with glimmering affinity and fondness.

Gahyeon needs to know. Needs to know how to make Yoohyeon happy because Yoohyeon makes her so indescribably buoyant—thinks she’d do anything in the world to make sure Yoohyeon feels the same.

“I really like you, Yoohyeon, and not in the friendly way.”

Yoohyeon’s eyebrows jump in shock. Gahyeon doesn’t have it in her to be scared, too focused on putting Yoohyeon first—just like she deserves. “But that’s irrelevant right now. I want to make you happy, Yooh, like how you make me. What do _you_ want?” Taking hold of Yoohyeon’s hands, Gahyeon trains her gaze on the taller girl, “You’re always giving and sacrificing, never asking for anything in return. Never putting yourself first.”

Yoohyeon stutters, surprised and overcome with astonishment, “I- I don’t-”

When Yoohyeon grasps her hands tighter, like she needs an anchor and she can find that in her hands, Gahyeon feels revitalized and renewed with motivation. “Please, Yoohyeonnie. Let me put you first. Let me do that for you—I want to. I want to put you first. So, please, tell me truthfully. What do you want? What will make you happy?”

Yoohyeon’s eyes look away from her, unable to take the earnest honesty radiating from them. Her mouth opens and closes and she swipes her tongue along her lips to wet them. Yoohyeon looks nearly befuddled, disoriented with this shift of attention—so unfamiliar with feeling wanted and cared for in this way. 

Paying so much attention to her that Gahyeon catches the shaky breath Yoohyeon exhales, she aches to reach out and run her fingers through her silver wavy hair—to soothe her, calm the storm of feelings she might be feeling. 

(To care for Yoohyeon so much that her impatience learns how to wait only asserts what Gahyeon knows. Yoohyeon comes before her and all Gahyeon wants is to show that to her, for Yoohyeon to know that there is someone in the world who will _always_ put her first).

When Yoohyeon looks back at her, her gaze is steady and sincere, her voice devout, “You. I want you. You make me happy. I want to be with you, Gahyeon-ah.”

(Gahyeon thinks that for someone like Yoohyeon to want her back, the universe must be smiling down at her).

Feeling brave enough to tenderly cup Yoohyeon’s cheek in her hand, Gahyeon has to repress a coo when Yoohyeon nuzzles into her touch. “I want you, too, Yooh.”

Yoohyeon beams, dazzling and brilliant, relieved beyond words, feeling so immeasurably exhilarated.

(This feels something like a fever dream to her. When Gahyeon caught her attention two years ago in their Intro to Psychology elective class, Yoohyeon couldn’t even bear to imagine this scenario. Yoohyeon had already accepted that Gahyeon was just going to be a friend in her life—someone she could have close but never ever touch. 

She never expected that Gahyeon would be the first to reach out and touch her).

Feeling so light and free like she is a butterfly soaring through the sky, Gahyeon continues, “I’m yours, Yoohyeonnie. All yours.” 

Leaning her forehead on Yoohyeon’s, Gahyeon thinks that what she feels is something happiness aspires to be. 

(Yoohyeon has never had someone that is all hers before. It overwhelms her, moves her closer to Gahyeon, makes her feel brave—brave enough to ask something of her).

Yoohyeon’s voice is soft and low, gentle and unimposing, “If it’s too soon, you can say no and I won’t be hurt or mad, but may I…” She shakily breathes in, slowly breathes out to calm her nerves, “May I kiss you?” 

Gahyeon’s answer comes when she leans in and tentatively presses her lips against Yoohyeon’s. Her lips are soft between hers and it feels like her entire life has shifted in such a spectacular way because there is nothing in the world that can compare to the feeling of kissing Yoohyeon.

(It’s also the first time she has kissed anyone with a lip piercing.

Gahyeon would like to do it again, many times, with Yoohyeon, of course).

Kissing Yoohyeon is like being embraced in her safe arms, makes her feel light and veneered. It’s like the world stops just for Gahyeon to take her time, to cherish this moment—this intimacy—with her. 

Watching the cherry blossoms as Yoohyeon drives away, Gahyeon thinks that spring might be her favorite season.

(And when Yoohyeon drops Gahyeon off at her dorm, instead of just her usual hug goodbye, Yoohyeon is also lightly pressing her up against her door and gently tilting her chin up to kiss her, slow and sweet.

Gahyeon goes to sleep that night with the ghost of Yoohyeon’s chapstick on her tongue, dreams about falling deeper in love with her. 

Her past dreams failed to capture just how divine Yoohyeon is, failed to encapsulate all the feeling that goes into kissing her, couldn’t possibly ever make her feel the relief, sparkling joy, and validation of being enough for her.

To want Yoohyeon and to be wanted back, poets would spend years trying to describe the scintillating feeling).

-

Gahyeon didn’t know it was possible for Yoohyeon to treat her better than she did before. 

But, Gahyeon surmises, girlfriend privileges are an amazing thing. 

(Yoohyeon takes her out for night rides whenever she wants, kisses her like all she wants in life is her, gives extra attention to her. Gahyeon’s favorites are being able to cuddle her and making Yoohyeon the little spoon because Gahyeon likes holding her and Yoohyeon being more vulnerable and verbal about what she wants because she feels safe enough to without feeling like a burden). 

To be the person to make Yoohyeon feel safe is a fluttering feeling, especially when Gahyeon only feels safest with her—safe enough for her to surrender her control, comforted by the thought that Yoohyeon will take care of her. 

_“Are you sure you want to?”_

_Gahyeon nods her head confidently, “The three of you looked like you were living your best life when you did it.”_

_Yoohyeon smiles, amused. Siyeon, Yubin, and she have always had a good time getting high with each other. “How would you like to do it then? I have a pen, edibles, and a pipe.” After explaining each one and going into thorough detail, Gahyeon chooses to forgo the edibles, feels more secure and comfortable with using a pen, persuaded by its “slightly better” taste (according to Yoohyeon)._

_After Yoohyeon talks her through how, she observes her with a fondness in her eyes, hands Gahyeon water when she coughs after her first hit. Taking in another hit and releasing her breath on Yoohyeon’s command, Gahyeon notices how Yoohyeon chooses to refuse the pen on her go. “It’s okay, baby. I smoked a few days ago and I don’t want to be high if you need me.”_

_(Like always, Yoohyeon is doing everything to make Gahyeon feel as safe as possible, putting her first)._

_“You might not feel anything with two hits. It’s good to wait and see if anything happens. The first couple of times are hard—you don’t know how it’ll affect you and how much you can take so it’s best to go slow.”_

_Yoohyeon runs her hand through Gahyeon’s hair comfortingly, “It feels good getting high but if you do too much, it can get scary. I did too much once and got really paranoid and cried for hours. I’d hate for that to be your first experience.”_

_(Gahyeon appreciates all the care and information that Yoohyeon gives—feels, somehow, more in control). Deciding to hold off for thirty minutes, Gahyeon finds that two are not enough for her. Before she can take another hit from Yoohyeon’s pen, Yoohyeon stops her._

_“There’s something I want to try, may I?”_

_And because Gahyeon trusts Yoohyeon with her life, she nods breezily._

_“Just follow my lead, open your mouth and breathe in when it feels right.”_

_Taking her pen and sucking in a hit, Yoohyeon beckons a finger towards her. Watching as she leans forward, Gahyeon’s eyes naturally close when Yoohyeon presses her lips against hers. Feeling her lips opening and mirroring her, a faint breath of smoke blows past her lips. Breathing in and taking Yoohyeon’s hit, it’s as if everything in her body pays dedicated attention to her girlfriend._

_(Shotgunning, Gahyeon knows now, is incredibly sexy. And it’s not just the act itself, but that it’s with Yoohyeon. Careful, attentive, loving Yoohyeon. Experiencing this with her lights her up, the embers within her glowing and setting her desire on fire)._

_Briefly pulling away and taking in Yoohyeon’s hooded eyes and blown out pupils, Gahyeon knows she’s not the only one affected. With a hand on the back of Yoohyeon’s neck, there is an urgency—a temptation—that she is eager to chase. Hotly pressing her lips against Yoohyeon’s and slipping in her tongue to trace it along the roof of her mouth and the velvet of Yoohyeon’s, the whimper of a moan that vibrates against her lips drives her crazy, makes her want more._

_Breathless when she pulls away, Yoohyeon’s lips are in a teasing smirk, “I’m guessing you liked that?”_

_Barking out a laugh and playfully pushing Yoohyeon down against her bed, Gahyeon lays her body flush on top of Yoohyeon’s and nuzzles into her neck, giggling along with her. (Yoohyeon’s fingers run through her hair while the other rests on the small of her back. Being held like this, Gahyeon feels like the world could crash and burn around her but she wouldn’t even feel a second of pain because Yoohyeon would shield her from it)._

_“I liked it very much.”_

_Yoohyeon breathes out a laugh. Gahyeon feels the movement under her chest, feels the faint but comforting thumping of Yoohyeon’s heart against her sternum. When Yoohyeon affectionately kisses her temple, Gahyeon returns her comfort and chastely presses a kiss against her pulse point._

_(Gahyeon likes kissing her there, likes knowing what she’s doing to Yoohyeon’s body—exactly how she’s affecting her. But, in innocent moments like this, Gahyeon likes the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, likes knowing that it pounds and goes in time with hers)._

_Feeling like her body is lighter, toasty warm, and lowly buzzing, her eyelids are heavier too. Gahyeon thinks that her smile feels bigger, finds that her heart reaches out even more Yoohyeon’s—Gahyeon didn’t even know that was possible._

_“Can I be the big spoon now?”_

_Yoohyeon laughs but she still carefully rolls them over to their sides and tenderly kisses Gahyeon because she looks so cute with her droopy, red eyes and lazy grin before turning the other way and backing up into the warmth of her body. Immobile in the best way possible, Gahyeon lets Yoohyeon reach for her hand to drape it across her stomach, their fingers loosely intertwining. Slowly moving to tangle their legs together because “slow” is all she is capable of at the moment, Gahyeon leisurely paints languorous kisses along Yoohyeon’s back, feels the goosebumps that raise under her touch._

_Everything is peaceful. Having Yoohyeon in her arms is her favorite; listening to her talk is comforting. (Even if Yoohyeon knows Gahyeon is barely registering a small amount of what she is saying, it’s endearing to her how she hums against her back and does her best to keep up with the conversation—how she asks for Yoohyeon to repeat herself or how she echoes back for confirmation)._

_All Gahyeon can think about, feel, is the twinkling of love in her heart—how it shines and begs to be seen, begs to be known._

_Her speech is slow but purposeful, careful, “I love you. I’m not supposed to say it when I’m high. I was supposed to wait, but I love you too much to not say it.”_

_Yoohyeon tenses up in her arms, Gahyeon leaves a trail of kisses to ease her tension._ _“I love you too much, this feeling is too much, for me to forget this. I loved you yesterday and so many days before that. I love you today. I love you now. I will love you tomorrow, just as much if not more.”_

_Yoohyeon just turns around in her arms, tenderly kisses Gahyeon with all the devotion and loyalty in the world, her eyes soft and loving. Bringing herself close, so close that their noses touch, Yoohyeon smiles and it’s a small one. But it’s so transparently clear, so full of affection and adoration. “I love you, too, Gahyeon-ah. For so long, I have loved you.”_

_Gahyeon’s lips fall into a dopey grin and Yoohyeon fondly presses hers against her girlfriend’s forehead._

_And when Gahyeon wakes up the next day, she doesn’t remember what she ate when a voracious desire for munchies hit her. But she remembers with striking clarity the gratefulness that bloomed in Yoohyeon’s eyes, the tangible love that colored her voice. She remembers her first, “I love you,” and how good it felt to have Yoohyeon in her arms, thinks that her memory has engraved that feeling deep into her heart._

-

Gahyeon is _supposed_ to be studying the reflections of space and time. Instead, she’s studying Yoohyeon’s focused frown and cute face more than anything.

Studying with Yoohyeon is either incredibly constructive because silence has never bothered them or incredibly ineffective because, God, Yoohyeon is just so ethereal and sometimes it feels like the world might end if she _doesn’t_ give her affection, so, of course, she has to give her attention. 

(Also staring at Yoohyeon is a great way to spend her time. People have to go to museums to look at art when all Gahyeon has to do is look at her girlfriend—it’d be a shame if she didn’t take advantage of it).

Feeling playful and nudging Yoohyeon’s shoulder, Gahyeon is two seconds away from pouting and whining for attention when Yoohyeon slowly tears her eyes away from her book. Looking at her with a question in her eyes, Yoohyeon arches a pierced eyebrow.

“Wanna see my favorite equation?”

Yoohyeon frowns incredulously but a warm smile sits on her lips. Leaning in and chastely kissing her soft lips, just because she can, Yoohyeon mumbles an amused, “Sure,” between another kiss.

Turning her notebook and pointing, Gahyeon smirks, “Look!”

_gahyeon + yoohyeon = <3 _

Yoohyeon laughs that high-pitched laugh that Gahyeon loves, playfully pushes her away before raining affectionate kisses on her face, “That is so cheesy, oh my God!”

When Yoohyeon lovingly kisses her before returning back to her studies, Gahyeon knows one thing is for sure.

They may seem like an unlikely pair: a well-decorated mathlete and a punk biker. 

But they work.

Gahyeon doesn’t need math to prove that.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!! you can find me @kminjyus on twitter and cc!


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